Prevention work is as much cultural as it is systemic. The stories we believe and tell, the actions we take, and the conditions we create all serve as containers for risk and protective factors for our peoples. It’s time we had more intentional conversations about the cultures we co-create at home, work, and where we play.

Mali’E: This past August, our prevention program manager, Paris, worked with local organizers and cultural workers from Guahan, for a two-week community engagement/ceremony focused on uplifting stories of survival, healthy relationships, and improvisation amongst displaced peoples.

We learned chants, songs, dance and shared cultural practices and gifts. It wasn’t a sit down and lecture, it was an activation and engagement. There were people as young as three months and as seasoned as seventy. It was an intergenerational space where we cried and showed our anger about the impacts of both individual and state sanctioned violence – we learned the story of a Giant Island Eating Fish that only the women could figure out how to catch before the island was divided, we spoke of the roles of women in our societies prior to colonial settlement, and we spoke of the erasure of our languages and stories of queer people. We intentionally invited young people into the space and thanked them for being around to hear the stories, and the language, and learning the dances, and for carrying the memories of our ancestors and the ways we kept each other safe. While we didn’t center every conversation on GBV Prevention, the intricate weaving of protective and risk factors was evident when I listened and learned where to look.

I want to share a word I learned – Tsa’tsa (Think like if you said “sat” twice, but put the “t” in front and “a” last). It means to be selective. It was offered to one of the participants as a young adult to let her know that she gets to choose, and be selective about who she spends her time with, and that no one has the right to demand her time or space. I thought of how different my boundaries might have been learning that word as a young person. I think often about the power of linguistics and how language can condition our thoughts and beliefs – knowing that in this language there is prevention and that is powerful in and of itself.

Mali’E is still an ongoing practice of engaging in relationships that help us foster understanding of how we can do the accountability work necessary to be in solidarity with one another across cultures, places, and times.

In conclusion, culture is where we co-create our actions, beliefs, and condition, and a transformative culture is how we’ll shape a world where survivors can thrive. Culture can serve as a container for prevention in our institutions, our stories, dances, and ways of a people. In short, cultural work is prevention work!

If you’re wondering what you can do, start with learning what it means to be accountable, and when you’re ready for your next steps, find a local group to support their organizing efforts.